


Dive Into Frozen Waves

by WalkOnThroughARedParade



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: An open love letter to Felix courtesy of Henry Mills, Basically, F/M, I adore my Lost Wolf Boy and can't help myself tbh, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-01-18
Packaged: 2018-01-09 03:22:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WalkOnThroughARedParade/pseuds/WalkOnThroughARedParade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'He is sunlight and quiet waves and the slow warmth of coffee and…</p>
<p>And Henry glances back at Wendy and can’t understand what she means.'</p>
<p>Or; In Which Henry Hasn't Known Felix As Long As Wendy And Peter, And Needs Some Time To Figure Him Out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dive Into Frozen Waves

Felix doesn’t know how to love softly.

Wendy murmurs the words into Henry’s shoulder just after they’ve finished their discussion, after the two of them have sat down with Peter and Felix and decided to try this, to try all being together, and Henry doesn’t…

He doesn’t quite understand what she means.

He has always thought that it’s  _Peter_  who can’t be anything but almost violent in loving someone; who burns like billions of stars trapped beneath salt-water skin, whose kisses consume, who can drag you out through your throat until he’s got the very essence of you cradled in his hands. Peter has always been the one Henry is worried will break him with how hard he loves, or will at least take everything inside him, lips and lungs and liver and make it sing only his name.

And Wendy herself….Wendy is starlight and fire and birdsong rolled into soft fingertips and biting teeth. She’s fierce like nothing he’s seen, wild in a way so different to Peter and Felix and even Henry himself, and though her love was never going to be  _violent_  it was always going to be  _vicious_ , always going to be consuming, an ocean filling his lungs until all he can taste on her lips is the sea, until when he closes his eyes he sees florescent splashes of colour like jellyfish, until the tendrils of her heart are curled around him like tentacles and he can’t untangle himself if he wants to.

Felix has always been the soft one and Henry can’t understand what she means.

Felix touches knuckles to the back of Henry’s neck when he’s stressed, smooths fingertips rough with callouses over his shoulders and noses at his throat, breath whisper-soft. Felix blinks requests for permission at him from behind sandy eyelashes, watches the people he loves dance around his living room with a softness to his eyes that makes Henry’s chest ache.

Felix is as soft as the feathers in his hair. Beneath the danger that lingers on the surface, beneath the wildness in his eyes and the flash of his teeth when he grins he is  _soft_ , whisper soft, down on your cheek and so very, very gentle in his affection. He is sunlight and quiet waves and the slow warmth of coffee and…

And Henry glances back at Wendy and can’t understand what she means.

Henry is coerced into having dinner with his mothers, into leaving alone, leaving the ones he loves pacing - but for Felix, who curls into a chair and hides behind a book so Henry will not have to see the concerned crease to his brow - and steeling himself for an afternoon of barely concealed barbs thrown across the table, an evening of  _but they aren’t right for you, Henry_  and _please come home with us, we miss you_.

He steps through their door an hour later than predicted, tired and sad and aching to his bones.

Felix looks up, something new and bruised in his eyes and  _oh_.

Henry understands.

Felix wraps his arms around him, silent but stiff and tense. He tightens fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. He presses against his back when Peter kisses him, rests his head against his shoulder, makes a quiet, whisper-soft noise in the back of his throat when Henry cards gentle fingers through his hair and Henry  _understands_.

When Felix wraps around him in his sleep Henry understands that while Felix loves  _gently_ , while his love is gentle and easy as breathing, it is not  _soft_. Because Felix loves with  _everything_.

With his bones and his blood, the blue in his eyes and the quiet curl to his mouth, with every word and every breath and every press of fingertips Felix _loves_ , and even momentary loss breaks him.

When Henry returned the look in his eyes was that of someone who had forgotten to breathe because the oxygen had been stolen from the room and Henry understands, finally, what Wendy means when she says Felix does not know how to love softly.

Felix is oceans and rivers and lakes, the sky and stars and  _sunlight_ , every single golden inch of sunlight. He loves like breathing, like waves and storms and crashing water, can’t not, and  _oh_.

Felix is  _adept_  at loving gently. But he does not know how to love with anything other than his whole heart.

Henry buries his face in his chest and lets himself drown for the night.

**Author's Note:**

> I will never stop writing love letters to Felix. I adore him with all of my soul.


End file.
